


Kidnapped

by orphan_account



Category: Star Trek, Star Trek: The Original Series
Genre: Hurt/Comfort, Implied Mind Rape, Kidnapping, M/M, Psychological Torture
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-12-30
Updated: 2015-10-15
Packaged: 2018-01-06 19:43:56
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence, Rape/Non-Con
Chapters: 10
Words: 8,728
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1110780
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/orphan_account/pseuds/orphan_account
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Because there wasn't a K/S kidnapping fic here yet and I basically live off them. <br/>A normal diplomatic mission starts taking longer than it should, and when Kirk really starts to worry, a sign arrives.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. 1

_I miss y-_

Kirk backspaced the message angrily. It had been five weeks, a mere five weeks since Spock had left the ship on a diplomatic mission. It shouldn't have taken this long, it was a simple treaty to be negociated between two rival planets, Sago Alpha and Beta, on the outlying edge of Federation space, near DS4. Spock had sent weekly reports, and all seemed to be going well. Something seemed off, however. The messages had been getting shorter and shorter, to the point where Kirk was starting to get seriously worried for his welfare. Typically, when he was stressed and didn't have time to mediate properly, the Vulcan tended to become less and less talkative, which was in and of itself quite a feat. The latest had simply read "All well," in stark contrast to the first. Due to the twin planet's atmosphere, distortion made visual communication impossible. 

The captain sighed and hit the audio recorder. 

"Captain's log, stardate 2376.79. First officer Spock remains on the surface of Sago Alpha, and the planned maintenance of the ship is going well, according to Mr Scott. Consult Chief Engineer's log for more information. Kirk out."

It had been brief, he knew, but there really was nothing to tell. "I'm missing Spock" wouldn't really be particularly professional, now, would it? It was all that was on his mind. The damned Vulcan. Admitting that he loved him had been hard enough, but telling _him_? It was nearly unthinkable. 

 Just then, his PADD bleeped. A new message from the surface of the planet, from Spock! He opened it instantly, peering closer at the screen. This one was practically a novel compared to the last couple.

" _Captain,_  


_I trust you are in good health, and regret to inform you that I kan not say the same for myself. In fact, i have contracte  a rare straiN of Vulcn flu, and require several mililitres of trioxide comppound, in ordr to stimulate my neural cells. I woul  like to requet  this from the Sagians, but thy are't capable of prouDuing teh propr moIecuLe. They are very helful in other ways, however, and I remain grateful._

_Negotiations continue well._

_Best wishes,_

_Spock"_

_  
_Jim reread the message several times. Something was definitely off. For a start, the grammar. Spock tended to be immaculate in his spelling, and this was a trainwreck! Also, trioxide would in no way help with the Vulcan flu. As Spock often said, once you eliminated the impossible, whatever remained, however imporbable, must be the truth. So, not sick. The patterns of random capitalisation, and omission of certain letters, didn't follow any known Starfleet code, so that eliminated the possibility of a secret message. Unless... the Sagians were part of the Federation, and as such, up to date on Starfleet protocol. If Spock were to try and get a message across, the best way would be to use a completely unknown method. Kirk had been reading up on Sagian culture, and they tended to overlook obvious facts, look into metaphors and higher interpretations. This caused many of their problems, but on the other hand, it meant that Spock would be able to easily encode the message. Kirk took a pen and paper and quickly jotted down the out-of place letters, as well as the missing ones.

 _k I d N a_   _pp e d s e n d h e L p_

and cell underlined. 

Jim felt his stomach plummet. He raced to the bridge, his heart pounding so hard he could feel it all the way through his chest.

"Scan the planet for Commander Spock," he cried out as he arrived on the planet.

"Captain, our sensors are being blocked," Sulu said, leaping into action. 

"Hail the Sagan council," he said, gripping the arms of his chair. 

"Not responding," Uhura said. 

"Damnit!" Jim yelled, slamming his hand on his own thigh. "Keep hailing them, top priority. Mr Scott," Here, he tapped his combadge, "Can we beam down to the surface of the planet?"

"Affirmative, but why?"

"Spock is being held captive. The Sagians aren't responding to our hails. We have to get him out of there."

"Well, I can get you down there, but only one person, captain, and they're going to notice pretty fast. I'm making no promises, now!"

"Thank you, Mr Scott, I'll be down to the transporter room immediately."

The entire crew was about to argue, he could feel it, but they were holding their tongues. It must be something about the glare he was giving them, because he was definitely about to slit some Sagan throat. 


	2. 2

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Spock's POV  
> Again, not properly edited, I'm trying to get these out at a rate of around a chapter a day.

One week beforehand, Spock awoke not in the comfortable quarters he had grown used to over the weeks spent on the planet, but facing a stone ceiling that seemed far closer than what was safe, for any species, especially those native to this planet, who were all well over two metres in height. He lay still for several seconds, gathering himself and assessing his options. Clearly, the Sagan Council had moved him. The only people with the access codes for his quarters were senior members among the council, and the entire floor was locked to transporters.

There were several possibilites as to their motives, but one was particularly apparent: they had been mere days from concluding the treaty between the two warring planets. That his capture should come now meant that, as he had suspected, the treaty would negatively impact the inhabitants of Sago Alpha's possibilites for trade in nearby star systems.

They could not forgo the possibility of creating such a treaty, because it would further sour relations between the twin planets. The ceasefire would hold in place, and they would still freely be able to trade luxury products. It was a perfect plan, and Spock realised on reflection that it must have been their intention all along to seize him before he had a chance to conclude the treaty. 

Now that he had worked out to a certain degree of probability what their motives were, he had to formulate a plan for escape. He couldn't sit up, but turned his head and saw that there were a couple square meters of floor space where the roof was higher and he could stand up properly. He rolled off the uncomfortable bunk and raised himself to a standing position. He then looked around the room. 

The walls and the floor were both made out of concrete, long set and ice cold to the touch. There was an arch in the wall that must be a door, but he could see a forcefield stretching all over it, and decided against testing it. Aside from that, his cell was completely bare. 

Soon after, he heard feet shuffling along the corridor. A Sagan appeared, a wide grin splitting its face. 

"I see you are awake! Haha! Now, you and your Vulcan intellect, you must know why you are here?"

"To prevent the treaty from being concluded," Spock replied calmly, not looking directly at his presumed captor.

"Well, yes, but mostly because you are entirely unique! We are a nation of traders, yes, but at are core are scientists, such as me! And I have long waited for the oppurtunity to experiment with such a unique hybrid!"

"Experimenting on sentient beings goes against every Sagan code of conduct," Spock replied, trepidation in the pit of his stomach threatening to rise. He choked it down immediately. Worry was not logical.

"Well, I've never really been one for... codes of conduct! Haha! Such things always tended to irritate me, even as a child."

"What do you intend to do? I can already give you most answers."

"You're a scientist, Mr Spock, you know that nothing is worth quite as much as first-hand experience."

"I do not believe you are a scientist."

"Such accusations! Well, I'm more of a hobbyist, but the Council handed you over to me, so I am within my rights-"

"You have no right to my body." Spock stated simply, despite the fury that was threatening to boil to the surface, and with it, worry. He couldn't usually feel his emotions this clearly.

"Ah, yes, your emotions. We are an empathetic race, you know. You shielded yourself so well, it was hard for us to feel anything about you, but now that you're tired and we've had a chance to slip a little something in your drink..."

"I wouldn't expect anything more from you," the Vulcan replied, with what he was horrified to discover was a  _sneer_.

"Well, I can now not only read you, but  _write_ you. Yes, that's right! Haha! You're all mine to play with."

"I don't suppose you would ever have heard of ethics."

"Oh, snarky, aren't you! Don't worry, I'll  _train_ that out of you in no time."

With the word  _train_ , Spock felt a lightning bolt of pain sear across his chest. He tugged his shirt down to reveal a scarlet welt, much like a whiplash, marking his ribs. 

"We're also telekinetic. Should have mentioined it, really! That means...  well, it means I never actually have to touch your filthy Vulcan skin!"

With those words, the Sagan turned heel and left. 

 

Over the next few weeks, Spock didn't see the tall Sagan once, but felt his presence constantly. He soon realised that there were several cameras scattered around his cell. Mostly, he was allowed to sit alone and bored. The mind-numbing monotony was torture enough, but every day, some minutes after his food was apparently beamed into the moist room,  it started.  
It started out with mere prodding and poking. Sometimes, his skin was pinched, no doubt to test its elasticity. Soon after, he would be forced into a sitting, meditative position, and have to await the tidal wave. 

Some days, it was emotions. Joy, anger, fear, mourning succeeding eachother at a rapid pace. Those days, he was allowed to move just his face. Even during the bouts of joy, he was loath to feel happiness, loath to express anything, and yet the feelings were pulled out of hi by a fist of iron. Other times it was pain. He could feel his skin blistering, his bones cracking and all the while, him being prevented from moving or making one single sound.

The worst days were the days when nothing appeared to happen. He would be lying on his bunk when he would feel unwanted memories return to the surface. Days he had never intended to live again, and in those moments, he knew for certain that his captor was picking through his mind, searching for the knowledge he wanted.

It was six whole days later before he got to the memories and those secret thoughts about Jim. Those he had tried to keep secret and safe, but it seemed that nothing would be spared. For three whole hours he was forced to remember every gentle hand on his shoulder, every chess game, every time the blond had made him feel like the best version of himself.

The bad memories were there too. The hours he thought he had killed his captain, in the wake of the fire that was Pon Farr. Every moment when he had inadverently insulted him and had had to see the pain in those hazel eyes.

" _Stop_ ," he had screamed, cowering on the floor, all semblance of logic gone, " _He's not for here. Leave him be._ "

The Sagan torturer seemed to have no pity, despite his claimed empath status, not a shred of feeling for others. He dug deeper, investigating parts of Spock's mind that were never meant to be seen, never supposed to be revealed.

The very next day, a PADD was thrust into his cell.

"They'll be worrying about you if you don't tell them what's going on, you know! Of course, haha, don't tell one word of truth."

Spock thought furiously as to the best way to get a message to the crew. The Sagans were part of the Federation, any standard codes would immediately be intercepted. Then and again, if he mixed several...

"He will find me, you know," the raven haired man said as he slid the PADD back. "You have seen my memories."

"Oh, I don't doubt that he will try," replied the alien. "The thing is, he'll be looking on Sago."

"Where are we now?"

"A long, long way away, that's for sure."


	3. 3

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Jim's point of view.

The moment the transporter deposited Jim in the marble hall, the same coordinates they had beamed Spock to, he spun around, looking for the nearest threat, or at least for someone to shoot. Instead, he found the vast room completely deserted. Chairs were lined up in neat rows, not one out of place. There wasn't even any dust in the air, although he remembered hearing something about air filtration systems on this planet that prevented any kind of impurity. Sagan immune systems, it would seem, were even weaker than their diplomatic skills. He stood stock still for several seconds, waiting to hear feet running, coming to capture him, too. His finger was beating a light tattoo on the trigger of his phaser, ready to shoot whatever crossed his path. Starfleet regulations, diplomacy, all had crossed his mind, but none seemed important enough to worry about in the face of this threat. Damnit, they had taken  _Spock_ , and he would die before he let them do anything to the Vulcan, to  _his_ Vulcan.

Cell. That was where he was being kept. Cells went hand in hand with underground usually, so that was where he headed, down the first set of stairs he came to. The stairs seemed at first appearances to a basement, but what he found at the bottom was another hall, precisely identical to the first, and still not a soul in sight. He hit his comm badge.

"Enterprise, can you do a scan to find how many meters I am above the surface of Sago Alpha?"

"I'm afraid not, Captain. They've shielded practically the entire planet to our sensors somehow. I'd beam you down a tricorder, but their air filtration systems do something strange to most technology in the buffer, according to the Commander's first message. Something to do with static electricity, I haven't been able to work out what yet. Have you found him yet?" Scotty replied.

"Not yet, I'll keep you posted. Kirk out." 

He slapped the commbadge again out of anger. There didn't seem to be a window in this goddamned place, and he had no way of knowing if he was even in the basement yet. The walls and floors themselves radiated light, an eerie phosphorescent blue, verging on yellow in places. The entire planet was giving him a headache, and he couldn't wait to find Spock, capture whoever was responsible, have probably the entire civilisation imprisoned and get the hell out of dodge.

He continued walking down stairs, when he found them, until he arrived at what seemed to be the bottom. As far as he could tell, the palace was organised in a sort of spiral, with one chamber on each floor. He hadn't yet found any living spaces, or even a cell. This in mind, he started the long trek back upstairs. He finally arrived at what seemed to be the top of the structure, extremely out of breath due to slightly larger than normal stair steps.

This room, now, this one was different. Rather than hundreds of seemingly pointless chairs, it contained several computer terminals, Federation standard. He let out a sigh of relief. Even if they had been locked, he could override any kind of security on them thanks to his captaincy. He strode up to the nearest one. 

"Computer, are there any life signs other than myself in this building?"

"Negative."

"Very well. Locate Starfleet Commander S'chn T'gai Spock."

As he said Spock's name, he felt a pang as he remembered the hours the raven-haired man had spent teaching him how to correctly pronounce it, and his seemingly endless patience.

"Starfleet Commander S'chn T'gai Spock is not in this building."

"Well, then, where is he? You've got access to all main Federation databases, that includes commbadge tracking. If he's on this planet, you've got to be able to find him ... Locate Commander Spock, security override Kirk Gamma Sword One-Five-Nine-Bravo."

"Commander Spock is not on this planet."

"Well, where is he?"

"Information not available."

"When was he last on planet Sago Alpha?"

"One week, six hours and sixteen minutes ago."

"Where did he leave from?"

"Information unavailable."

"Well, where did he go?"

"Information unavailable."

"Damn _it_!"

Kirk walked away from the terminal, then an idea struck him. Outside, the filtration system wouldn't be able to interfere with the transporter beam, and tricorders were designed to work in even the harshest of environments. Whatever weather was outside wouldn't interfere, and this planet was at least M-class, so it would be livable for him.

"Computer, locate the nearest exit."

"Proceed to the right. Exit located on east wall."

Jim did so, and found a slight indent in the glowing marble, roughly two and a half metres tall, and three wide. He pushed into the middle of it experimentally and found that it gave quite easily.

When he stepped outside, he found himself in the middle of an arid desert. Not one single bump or wave in the ground was visible anywhere. Looking back at the building he had just left, and squinting slightly in the light, he realised that most of it was, of course underground. The same must be true for most of the rest of the houses here. Already feeling the heat on his shoulders, he understood why they had opted for a subterranean mode of living. Quickly, before he got too sunburnt, he tapped his badge.

"Mr Scott, can you beam a tricorder down to my current location?"

"Computer says yes, I'm inclined to agree. Stand by."

Around a minute later, a small black box materialised in front of him. Not wasting a second, he snatched it up and started a scan for life-forms on the planet. Several blips appeared, Sagan, but all over ten kilometers away. Not one Vulcan. He immediately started a long-range scan that should get most of the continent, then another one that got the entire hemisphere. Half an hour later, he had done all he could and hadn't turned up a single life-sign. Given that the northern hemisphere was nearly entirely immersed in a sea of mercury, it wasn't looking particularly hopeful.

"Enterprise, one to beam up. Tricorder scans say he's not on the planet. Hail the Sagan high council, top priority."

As he felt the transporter beam surrounding him, he tried to compose himself. His hands were shaking for some reason. He felt, all of a sudden, all that he had been repressing during the search. Fear, that he might never find Spock again. Anger that anybody could have done this to Spock, to  _him_. Most of all, now that he didn't know so much as what planet the Vulcan was on, hopelessness.

The moment he arrived on the transporter pad, his legs suddenly stopped supporting him and something seemed to stab the right hand side of his head. He was up again in a second, but then nurses were crowding around him and  _of course_ _,_ a hypospray to the neck, making the dark hovering at the corner of his eyes much harder to resist.


	4. 4

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Spock's point of view again.  
> EDITED 17/10/2015 BECAUSE I SUCKED WHEN I WROTE THIS THE FIRST TIME

"Tell me about Jim Kirk."

Spock looked up. For the first time in a week and a half, his captor and torturer had come to talk to him face to face.

"Why?"

"It is of, haha, particular interest to us."

"I do not understand,"

"Of course you don't, so just tell all. We've seen your memories, but some of the, haha, flavour of the moment tends to be lost in translation, as it were. Ha."

"What do you wish to know?"

"Well, for instance... how do you feel when you look at him?"

"I don't understand how it could  _possibly_ be relevant."

"See, Spock, my friend-"

The Vulcan visibly bristled at the familiar terms.

"Us from Sago, we don't know love as you do. For several hundered years, mates have been chosen based on physical and mental compatibility from birth, similar to how it is on Vulcan."

"I am aware."

"So, in time, love seemed to disappear. We can't even feel it any more. Not for our parents or our friends. However, the emotions you have for this Terran, they are unfamiliar to us. We... I wish to learn more."

"Essentially, you would use me as a test subject, as you have been for the past days, in order to satisfy your desire for an emotion that doesn't belong to you."

"I don't think you have much of a _choice_ in this matter." The Sagan's double eyebrows furrowed and once again, Spock felt a sting across his shoulders. Still, he stood still, barely wavering. His captor's expression darkened further, if it was at all possible, and this time he reached out with his hand, making a twisting motion. Spock felt his airways contract, as if being crushed by a hand of steel, which, in fact, they were. 

"Just signal with your hand once you're ready to tell me."

Still, he stood with one hand tightly gripping the other behind has back. Illogical as it was to resist in the face of certain strangulation, he could not let his memories of Jim, the only things keeping him relatively sane, be dessecrated by willingly giving them up.   
Just when he felt he would surely lose consciousness, the hand disappeared.

"Since that's clearly not going to work, let's try something else. Jim Kirk beamed down to Sago Alpha three days ago. Now, thanks to communications exchanged during his brief stay, we have managed to get a link into all communications aboard the Enterprise. Just to prove it, here's a live audio feed of the bridge.

The small chamber was filled with the thrumming of the ship's engines.

_"The search of the third sector's complete, Captain. Sensors report four Vulcan lifesigns on planet GS-5340. Other than that, nothing. No shielded planets, not even a Sagan signal."  
_

_"That's no good, anyway. GS-5340 is a Vulcan terraforming project. Proceed to searcing sector four."_

Spock felt his heart leap at the sound of his captain's voice. He was alive, then, but sounded extremely tired.

"Anyway, during his stay, we managed to establish a telepathic link! Ha! Meaning that now..."

"You can do the same to him as you did to me."

"Well, not quite. Humans are completely psi-null, so boring! I can't see his mind or anything, but I can..."

The intercom was filled with a sharp cry of pain, going on until the captain's voice faded to a croak, then something near to sobbing. Spock curled up on the floor, clutching his hands to his ears, trying to block out the noise. 

"You are a monster," he said calmly, without moving his hands from his ears.

"Yes, and you're under my power at the moment, in case you have not noticed! Haha! It would do you well to remember what I said unless you want _blondie_ up there," he gestured to the sky, "to _get_ it again, alright?"

"Very well."

"I thought so! Oh, this is going to be nice! Haha!"

"Several years ago, while accidentally intoxicated, I told Jim that I felt ashamed when I felt friendship for him. I would... never have intended to say something that could be so devasting, but I accept responsibility. At the time, I thought that I meant those words sincerely. In time, I have come to realise that it wasn't friendship that was causing me pain. It was love. Vulcan society is known to condemn relationships between its own and outsiders. I bore witness to this as a young child. I learned that my mother and my father were not supposed to be together, that it was somehow illogical. Relationships between people of the same gender have only recently stopped being entirely taboo. As such, before I even realised the true nature of my feelings for Jim, I knew that they were-"

"Bor-ing! Ha, I'm not interested in sad parts! What does love feel like?"

"I am endeavouring to explain-"

"At least make something convincing up, or  _blondie_  is going to be getting increasingly uncomfortable."

Spock was frankly nonplussed on this subject. He did not regularly endeavor to define his own feelings about anything. Rational thought should only be dedicated to rational thought, as far as he was concerned. However, he did recall something that the captain had said in passing, some years ago...

"Love is the most human of all emotions. It is... it is when you care about someone else as- or more than- yourself. You would wish to know everything about them. Depending on the  _type_ of love, you would... share a life with them."

"Very _nice_! Haha, goodbye, Mr Spock."

With that, he was gone.

Spock found it hard to believe that those poorly recalled musings had managed to get him out of the situation, but it seemed to be true. It was rather cruel, therefore, that mere moments after the Sagan whose name he still didn't know left, the terrible screams started again, mingled with shouts from Doctor McCoy, ordering painkillers, hyposprays, all of which Spock knew wouldn't work. They all tried to dull the nervous response. The pain Jim was experiencing was felt directly in his neurons. 


	5. 5

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Jim's POV. It's always darkest before dawn, but the night's still long.

Bones hadn't been able to find anything wrong after his sudden collapse, and had confined him to sickbay for a day, loading him up with hypos full of everything imaginable, that should have fixed whatever it was. The moment he was cleared for duty, Kirk was on the bridge, doing what he ccould to help the search of nearby star systems.

Unfortunately, there wasn't that much to do. The computers executed scans and reported their findings every hour, and in between, the crew analysed them. Kirk himself had a star chart spread across his lap, with planets and moons marked on it. Each Class M planet was circled in red, and the systems already searched were ticked off. Five hours into the shift, after the search of the fourth quadrant was complete, it started for the first time.

There was no warning, no sign. One minute he was sitting in his chair, the next every cell in his body was being torn apart, he was burning and freezing, somebody was screaming at him and he couldn't even breathe, the screaming was fading now, it must have been his, and his fingers were being pulled from their sockets, his head twisted and his legs broken, all of this without moving. Then, quickly as it had come, it left. Jim didn't dare open his eyes, but finally was able to breathe in again. It felt as if he were newly born. His throat was raw from screaming, 

"Jim, can you hear me?"

"Yeah," Kirk said, blinking his eyes open. "What... what happened?" he managed to croak out.

"We'll figure it out later. Don't you worry, just keep still." Then, a series of muffled commands, and he felt the transporter buffer around him, before landing on a bed in Sickbay.  The pain was gone, in fact, he felt fine aside from the fact that his heart was still beating so hard he could feel it. He tried to sit up, but hands pushed him back down. It must have been fifteen minutes later when he was finally allowed to move.

"It's okay, Captain, whatever it was seems to be gone now." said Nurse Chapel. "Could you sit up for a minute?"

Kirk obliged, and Chapel ran a tricorder over him several times, frowning at the readings.

"Is everything in order, nurse?"

"All seems to be normal, strangely enough, some hormonal imbalance, but no reason for you to suddenly start experiencing that level of pain."

"So, you've got no idea what caused it at all, Nurse?" Bones asked from across the room, where he sat at a desk, staring intently at a PADD.

"Nothing, Doctor. If I were just going by the readings, I would have said that he went for a jog from the bridge to here, then got a fright. Just a little more adrenaline than normal, accelerated pulse. No other hormones that could have caused pain, and his central nervous system is working perfectly fine!"

"If we could have gotten readings during the attack, then maybe... but there's no record of anything even vaguely similar happening to anyone, ever." He turned to Jim. "You were just sitting in your chair when it came on you? Could you describe what you felt exactly, and don't ommit a single detail."

"Yes, that's it. I was sitting in my chair, looking at star charts, then all of a sudden, this pain, coming from everywhere. It was as if every single cell in my body was on fire, but some parts were worse than others. My fingers, for example, and my legs. It was like they were all being broken, again and again. Could this be related to what happened when I beamed back up from Sago?"

"Possibly. Either way, I don't have any idea of _why_ , either time. Readings from your brain show that the pain was real, not a hallucination or anything, but no possible cause. Leg pain, but not a crack in your bones. I can't for the life of my figure out what could be wrong. Goddamnit, Jim, I just wish I could help you."

"That's alright, Bones... Well, I suppose you want me to stay in medbay until you've worked it out."

"Exactly. Just sit tight there, we'll be monitoring you constantly for at least 24 hours. If it helps, I don't think it's a virus that we don't have any knowledge of."

"Well, that's comforting. Is it possible that it could simply be stress induced?"

"Stress?" the doctor sighed. "I would say that for a headache, sure, or a fever. Not a sudden fit of acute pain that lasted just thirty seconds, then disappeared without leaving a trace. Nothing infectious, that's for sure- it would have been caught in the transporter buffer. Anyway, call me if you need anything, I'll be in my office, trying to sort this whole mess out."

With that, McCoy left the room, still glaring at the tricorder and Jim was alone but for nurses tending to the other patients..

His thoughts, of course, turned to Spock. Confined to this bed, there wasn't much he could do about it, but that wouldn't stop him from speculating. For a start, why was he kidnapped in the first place? And why had all this started just as the treaty was about to be concluded? The Sagans had spent a great deal of time and effort working towards peace. Why throw it all away?

His musing was cut off by a violent streak of pain, then in started again, the whole agonising process. Far below him, somewhere, Bones was shouting, trying to bring painkillers, or more likely knock him out, and he honestly hoped for the latter, or even to die. Anything to simply cease existing for a while, so that this agony would stop. Then, right before what he felt must be the tipping point, when his body would surely shut itself down from the pain, he felt a presence in his mind. One sentence echoed in his consciousness, in a voice achingly familiar to him.

_Jim, t'hy'la, let me help._

He felt no more.


	6. 6

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Spock's point of view. Don't piss off a Vulcan.

The moment that they started hurting Jim again, Spock let go of any control he may have had left, leaving nothing but pure rage. If he had been in any state to think, he would have realised that it was remarkably similar to how he had been during _plak-tow_ , the blood fever. His mind was focused on one goal: in this case, killing the Sagan. He had formulated an inkling of a plan several days before, that relied greatly on the fact that this repulsor beam was of an out-dated design.

It started when he recalled in interesting factoid- some these beams were often weakened by copper or iron. This had only applied to the prototypes, and once they had been put in use for prison cells, this problem had long been fixed. However, he was aware that his blood was composed of mainly copper, yes, but with trace elements of iron. If he wasn't mistaken, with a bit of effort, he should be able to punch through the field. 

However, in his current condition, he had forgotten that this would take approximately five hundered mililitres more blood than was safe for him to lose. All that was left was Jim's pain and the fact that it had to  _stop_. Spock was now like a trapped animal, and whatever part of him was rational didn't think that a bit of pain mattered anymore. 

He brought his own wrist to his mouth and bit into it, until he drew blood. Then, moving fast, he thrust it towards the edge of the repulsor beam, moving fast so as to not let it repell him before the blood had a chance to touch the beam itself. Once it got into contact with the blue shimmer itself, something entirely unexpected happened, and the part of it he had bled on started sucking him in. It had reversed polarities, becoming a tractor beam. He gripped the injured wrist with the other hand and held on, letting the blood flow from him and into the beam. It took around five minutes, and all the while he was growing weaker, but soon, green blood formed a coat all over the beam, which was exactly what he needed. The moment the entire thing was covered, he took a step back and ran  _through_ the beam,  which seemed to shatter around him. He could  _sense_ the Sagan torturer nearby. There were three doors leading away from this area, and he had to be behind one of them. They were wooden, strangely enough, so it was the work of a moment to kick the first one in. It led to a small empty room. He did the same to the next door and found what seemed to be a bedroom.  _He_ was here, he could hear the trembling breath. In one motion, he lifted up the steel frame and found the tall alien cowering underneath. Quickly, his hand snaked around his throat, with the intent to strangle, but then he could  _feel_.

It's widely known that Vulcans are touch telepaths, and without intending a meld, in his state of pure rage, he could feel what the Sagan was feeling. At this moment, that was Jim's consciousness. Without feeling his pain, Spock could suddenly sense the fear, the confusion. There had to be something he could do to aid him. Then, one single thought, clear as crystal.

_Stop._

Spock could make it stop. He could do it. He focused his mind on rest and projected one sentence across the bond.

_Jim, t'hy'la, let me help_.

He could feel the sleep taking over Jim's mind and dragged the Sagan to his own cell by the shoulder. The tall alien was hyperventilating, shaking even, but Spock was extremely far from caring. Once the prone body was well inside, he stepped over to the computer beside it and set a new repulsor beam up, one that should also dampen telepathic abilities. 

"You disgust me," he spat before kicking open the third door and finding a staircase leading upwards. He strode up it, taking the steps two by two until he came out on top of what seemed to be a roof. The air felt thinner here, but he relished being able to breathe freely for the first time in over a week. However, he soon realised that there was nowhere to go from here. There wasn't one single building in sight, not as far as he could see in any direction.   
He remained up on the roof for some minutes, until he decided to go back down. He might be able to find some way to use the Sagan that had kept him captive to send a message to the Enterprise. Then and again, he still didn't know which planet he was on. This clearly wasn't even in the same system as the other planets, given how dim the sun was. There had to be some communications, some way of communicating with the outside world. 

In the end, he found it under the bed, where the Sagan torturer had been hiding. There was a trap door leading to a small control room, with a basic array of communications systems, as well as a food replicator and what looked like a small transporter pad. It was a miracle that everything had been able to fit into the small space. Quickly, he composed a hail, to be constantly broadcast as far as possible and constantly. 

"This is Commander Spock of the Federation Starship Enterprise. I have been kidnapped by a Sagan, but managed to subdue him. My coordinates are-" he read aloud from the screen in front of him. "I would appreciate any and all help in returning to my ship. Spock out."

With that, he walked back up the stairs, dragged the mattress from the bed down and fell asleep in the middle of the control room, sleeping more deeply than he had in days.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Close enough to the EPIC CONCLUSION now, stay tuned. ;)


	7. 7

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> RAPE TW IN THIS CHAPTER. Read at your own discretion.  
> Also, this is probably the meanest chapter ever. As if they weren't both already hurt enough.
> 
> EDITED 17/10/2015 AS I SUCKED WHEN I FIRST WROTE THIS

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Remember when I said this was going to be the last chapter?  
> I lied.

Spock awoke to the sounds of heavy footsteps, and felt his heart leap. The crew must be here to rescue him. He sat up, opening his eyes, only to see the figure of the Sagan, sprinting towards him, a mad light in his eyes. His double eyelids were both pulled up high, making him look deranged even by his species' standards. Questions ran through Spock's mind. How had he gotten out, what was he doing, where was the Enterpr-

All these thought were cut short when he felt his chest being brutally pushed back to the mattress by what must be telekinesis. He could only formulate one thought:  _no._  The tall alien was advancing towards him, clearly with the intention to hurt.

"Dear little Vulcan! Haha! I thought I had managed to teach you humility! It seems we've still got another lesson to go through!"

"You will regret anything you do. Stop now."

"See! That's exactly what I am talking about! Ha! You can't _order me around_! You're my little bitch!"

Spock tried to fight back, to push the monster off, but he found his arms and legs completely pinned down. The Sagan's telepathy was stronger now than it had ever been before, and the Vulcan didn't think there was anything he could do to fight back. Still, he tried, struggling against his mental bonds.  He felt his trousers being stripped off without seeing it, he couldn't bear to even open his eyes. What little emotional control he had managed to regain during his brief liberty had shattered, leaving him in more pain than before. The Vulcan precepts were still there, however. Those that told him that the sobs he couldn't stop himself from letting out were _shameful,_ that they were  _wrong_. He felt what must be a finger, gently stroking his belly, playing with his shaft, and let out another heaving cry, hoping for it all to  _go_ , for him to stop feeling entirely and for the nightmare to end. Much as he hoped that he would be able to detach himself from this, he couldn't. His mind and soul had already been torn apart, all the emotional shields he had built up over a lifetime had been broken. The same _could not_ happen to his body.  _Help_ he cried out, whether telepathically or physically he couldn't tell.

He felt something thick in front of his opening. This was it, he felt, choking on tears, this was-

A clatter of footsteps on the stairs. 

"Spock!" He felt his heart soar before he even recognised the voice.

 _Jim_.

"Get off of him, you  _bastard_ ," the man yelled, and Spock suddenly felt the courage to open his eyes again. He immediately wished that he had not; the golden-haired man was being pushed back against the wall by a force that must be unknown to him, but was all too familiar to Spock.

"I'm sorry, we will find a way to get you out of here!" Then, turning to the taller alien. "We've got a security team on their way here, armed with state of the art phasers. If you stop what you're doing right now, you might have an easier time of it later."

"Unlikely! Haha! You did find out that it was impossible to beam more than one person at a time down here, right? And the atmosphere is very troubled, it will take some time to request backup and still longer for them to arrive. That's time for a lot to happen! Haha! I'm not stopping until I'm _quite_ done, thank you!"

"Not him. Get your filthy, unworthy hands off Spock. Haven't you done more than enough to him already?"

The captain's tone was venemous, seething in fact.

"Oh,  _reasoning_. Very  _good_. Well trained, I see."

"Why did you even take him in the first place?"

"Oh, you know. Fun. Experiments. It was all very good while it lasted. I got to see a lot, mind you, James T Kirk! Ha, all the memories he has of _you_. Happy memories, you know. He really lov-"

During this exchange, Spock had felt the Sagan's telekinetic control weaken around his wrists. The moment it was weak enough for him to be able to push through, he viciously nerve-pinched his assailant. The tall body crumpled- like they always did- and fell to the ground.

The Vulcan gazed blearily at the prone body lying nearly in his lap, dazed. He allowed himself to believe that it was over now, finally. Finally finished. He stood up and dressed himself again, then looked at Kirk. The man seemed to him to be a vision of pure beauty at that moment, standing as he was in the golden light from outside. It was the first beautiful thing Spock had seen or felt in what felt like an aeon.

"I would ask if you are alright, but you're clearly not. We're going to beam you directly to sickbay, alright? Relax now. You're safe."

Spock finally stumbled forwards to lean against Jim, too numb to talk. As he buried his head in the blond man's shoulder, more sobs shook his entire body. 

Kirk felt that something was deeply broken within Spock, and he vowed to fix it.

"Enterprise, two to beam up."

The moment they rematerialised in Sickbay, both were surrounded by a crowd of doctors and nurses. A gruff voice shouted 

"Get away, all of you! Spock is my patient for the time being and I will call you when I need you."

Spock was grateful that the crowd of people dispersed, and still more when two pairs of firm hands sat him down on a bed.

"He's physically weakened, bruised all over. He's Vulcan, he should be able to go into a healing coma. That would help the mind and the body recover, but I have no idea how to induce one."

"We'll have to take him to a Vulcan healer, or-"

"Would he be better off in his own quarters?"

"Maybe."

The two were speaking quietly, nearly murmuring.

"I would feel better, perhaps, in my own bed." Spock finally replied as evenly as he could manage. 

"I'll walk you there," Kirk promised, taking him by the arm.

Doctor McCoy noticed that Spock flinched whenever anybody touched him, but seemed to accept contact with the Captain, and was even leaning in to it. He shook his head, and realised that the two would heal each other, given enough time.

 


	8. 8

After making sure Spock got into bed, Jim made to leave his quarters, to give the man some time alone. However, once he got to the door, the Vulcan spoke up.

"Stay with me, Jim, please." His voice was cracked, a mere shadow of its former self. 

"Of course," he replied, sitting down in the chair next to Spock's desk. "Do you want to talk about it?"

There was a long silence.

"He searched through my memories, Jim. Those of you, especially. He... he wished to know what love was. When I was unwilling to explain, he began projecting the sound of you... you being tortured."

"That's why. I was experiencing these random fits of acute pain... Oh, God, Spock. He used  _me_ to hurt you." He could barely believe it. He, himself had been used as an instrument of mental torture. He had been part of the destruction of the man in front of him, and even though he had wanted no part in him, he wondered if he could ever forgive himself.

Tears were streaming down Spock's cheeks once again, and Jim instinctively reached his hand towards his face, wiping off the streaks with his thumb, his own eyes becoming misty.

"I'm going to make sure that bastard never sees the light of day again, I swear. God, Spock. He must have ripped down all your mental shields. Do you think you can ever build them back up again?"

"I am unsure. I must spend some time meditating. Perhaps several weeks."

"First, sleep. Your body needs some rest, too. We can fix you together."

"Very well," Spock replied, for once not contesting the advice or saying anything about how Vulcans require less sleep. "Please, Jim, stay with me."

"Of course I will." he replied, smiling and placing one of his hands over Spock's own. "Rest now, and don't you dare worry about a thing."

As the Vulcan closed his eyes, Kirk swore he could see a smile flit across his mouth. In any other situation, he would have been asking countless questions, or rather seeking confirmation for what he thought he had just heard.

The Sagan had looked through Spock's head and found memories of Spock, then asked what love was. Spock loved him. Oh, God. Spock loved  _him_. After a year of doubt, a year of pain, it had all been true.

"I love you too, you Vulcan idiot," he said with a grin. He picked up a PADD that was lying on the desk, not letting go of Spock's hand, and composed a message to McCoy, requesting that food for him and Spock be brought along three times a day until further instruction. Then, he laid the tablet aside and sat back in the chair, watching Spock sleep. Finally, Jim was back where he belonged: at Spock's side. He knew one thing for sure: he would build the man back to his former self, from the ground up.

 

When Yeoman Barclay requested entrance to Commander Spock's quarters several hours later, bearing a platter of two massive meals, it took a minute and a half for the doors to swish open. Once inside, he tried to keep his eyes to the ground. The doctor had told him that they wanted as much privacy as possible. Still, he couldn't help himself from glancing up at the bed and seeing the captain slumped across Spock's chest. He grinned to himself and quickly left the room. Ensign Markey owed him a beer.


	9. 9

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Confessions and cuteness. Second last chapter, guys!

The next morning, Spock didn't wake until past midday. When he finally opened his eyes, he found Jim sitting in a chair beside his bed, doing paperwork, it seemed.

"Oh, you're awake!" the blond said with a small, rather uncharacteristic laugh. 

"Indeed."

The two were silent for several seconds.

"I have been thinking about what you said. Last night."

Spock raised an eyebrow. 

"I know... I know you said many things last night, but do you understand what I'm referring to?"

The second eyebrow ascended. 

"Alright, I'll cut the crap. You said that after having seen your memories of  _me_ _,_ that Sagan bastard wanted to know what love was. Do you..." Jim swallowed nervously. "Do you love me?"

There was a pause.

"Because if you do, then that would be one of the best things I have heard said in some time."

Spock sat up, not quite meeting Jim's eyes.

"Cap-Jim, I do reciprocate, but I do not understand. Why would you- why would you love  _me_? I am fundamentally flawed, not to mention that given that you have previously adopted heterosexual tendencies, I-"

Kirk swiftly leaned forwards and gently kissed Spock.

"Don't say that about yourself, please," he murmured. "I love you, more than as a friend, even more than as a lover,"

"T'hy'la," the Vulcan whispered. "It is Vulcan, meaning friend, brother and lover. The notion is similar to that of soul-mates in Earth culture."

"Of course."

"I, also, love you, Jim." Spock reached up and pulled Jim down so that they were lying side by side. 

"Hang on a minute," the blond said, pulling off his golden shirt, leaving the tight-fitting black undershirt. "I can't do this with the braid on."

Spock sat in silence. 

"May I ask, Jim, why the sudden change in your gender preference? Indeed, in all our acquaintance, you have never expressed the slightest interest in any ma-"

Jim shut him up with a kiss.

"Jim, I do not believe you can avoid every conversation by kissing me."

"Well, I've waited this long-"

"You are avoiding the subject. Why, after all these years of exclusively women have you chosen me?"

"Well, I wouldn't say that I  _chose_ you... but to answer your question, I never expected to fall in love with a man. That is why I ignored it for so long, mistaking our bond for something else entirely. Either way, I'll not be mistaking the same mistake again."

The pair lay in silence for several minutes.

"I find myself curious as to Doctor McCoy will react to this news."


	10. 10

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> sorry guys

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> ok so i wrote this fic over a year and a half ago and i cant get through the entire thing bc i am so annoyed that i couldnt decide between "sagan" or "sagian". so here's the last chapter, probably not consistent with myself or my own canon. or st canon. hahaha fuck.  
> please note that i also havent written fic in like a year so forgive me

"Opening of court proceedings against Lok Na Rei. The defendant stands accused of kidnap, sexual assault, physical assault, misuse of telepathic and telekinetic powers, experimentation on a sentient being and acting against diplomacy. The court will not hear a defense, as testimony has already been collected telepathically and has been determined by the court to be sufficient evidence against the defendant. The court rules that the defendant's actions are not, in fact, defendable. He will be sentenced to permanent exile on the planet SG102, a terrestrial globe in the final stages of terraforming. No life other than plant life exists on this planet. Thank you."

The judge banged her gavel and stood up with a slight squelch from her chair. She hoped the sentence would be sufficient. The Court of Interplanetary Justice had chosen her, rather than a human judge (as was customary) due to her telepathic powers. Thanks to these, she was able to extract perfect testimony from both accuser and defendant. She hoped that the sentence she had placed upon him, the most severe one available to her, would be enough. It was her opinion that Na Rei could not be rehabilitated. 

 

***

 

 

Meanwhile, Spock sat quietly on the bench. He still had nightmares, once in a while. He would wake up, trembling and nearly paralysed with fear that he would find himself back  _there_ again. Jim would always be there, right beside him. It had taken only a year for the court case to work its way up. This would be the first of many cases against Sago and Sagans generally, for various crimes such as obstructing diplomacy, failing to regulate the scientific activities taking place on the planet, illegally trading goods taxed as luxuries, and a myriad of other small ones that the Court would no doubt nail them on. It was not good to feel so delighted about it all. Justice was being served, yes. But no amount of exile would make up for the way that Spock still couldn't meld calmly, nor the bags under Kirk's eyes that had yet to go away. Sulu and Chekov still tiptoed around the both of them. Jim, for one, was beginning to doubt that "it" would ever all be "fine".

Still, they had the Enterprise, and a sky full of stars to explore. _  
_

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> ya so sorry its short  
> bye bye btichez


End file.
